


Counsel

by DistantStorm



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post Red War, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm
Summary: “If we can make a good team - which we do, and overcome our misconceptions of each other - which we have, we can absolutely convince this city that the Clans will help them.”





	Counsel

“Don’t worry. People are always angry when it comes to accepting new things. They’ll come around.”

She’s dabbing a wet cloth to a mark above her right eye. The tone of her skin makes the bruising around it look nearly indigo.

He stands in the doorway, frowning.

“I feel as thought that is what I should he saying to you.”

She stops evaluating herself in the mirror and instead uses it to find his gaze. “Give me a break. If I had some glimmer for every time somebody slugged me, I’d be richer than Hideo.” He doesn’t look happy about that. She backpedals. “Look, what I’m trying to say is that this-” She uses the hand holding the bloodied cloth to gesture at her black eye, “It’s nothing. Barely a scratch, and I’ve been hit plenty harder.”

It still doesn’t soothe his anxiety. “I know you are capable of taking care of yourself, Hawthorne.” She’s pleased he hasn’t phrased it as a question. “The problem is what it represents.”

She shrugged. “You’re looking at this all wrong.”

“How so?”

A wince catches his attention as she swipes at a small clot of dried blood. He knows she can feel his gaze on her. “Those people have a lot of things in common with me.” She stops, backtracking again. “Or they did, before we took back the city.” She rinses the washcloth in the sink with cold water and presses it over her eye longer this time. “I never trusted Guardians. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted a group of them giving me directions, and never in a million years would I have thought civilians could work in groups with them. Or that I would be the one encouraging exactly that.”

She steps back from the sink and turns toward him. The small bathroom off of his office isn’t very deep, and so now they’re toe to toe, their eyes practically even with each other.

“You got me to come around,” She says softer, her eyes darting back and forth in a quiet evaluation of his bright irises. “Me. Someone who spent her whole life trying to get away. I trust you with my life and I believe in what we’re doing.” She pokes his chest armor once with her index finger. “And you were the one I thought betrayed us the most. Those people don’t feel half as strongly as I did. They’re just… scared and unsure.”

He’s unable to look away. Her eyes are almost black in the pale afternoon light, and despite the bruising on her face he can’t help but notice how fierce it makes her look. Beautiful even.

“You and me,” She’s saying, her gaze dipping to his lips and back up to his eyes as the hand holding the cloth falls to her side. “If we can make a good team - which we do, and overcome our misconceptions of each other - which we have, we can absolutely convince this city that the Clans will help them.”

He can’t help the tiniest pull of his lips upward. Shakes his head. “You always know what to say.”

She smirks. “Y'know, I’m starting to think you dragged me up to the tower to be your personal cheerleader.”

“Unfortunately not. Though I will admit I appreciate your encouragement.” His left hand cups her cheek, just below the black eye. “And I am glad…” He tips his forehead to hers, their eyes even closer now.

“You’re glad?” She whispers back in an echo. Her heart is beating frantically in her chest. It’s deliciously new and exciting, in a terrifying way.

“Yes,” He murmurs and their eyes slip closed almost simultaneously. “You and I-”

The door to the whole of Zavala’s office is thrown open loudly to Cayde and Ikora. “…and then I said - whoa, hey, what’s happening here?”

The moment broken, Hawthorne jumps back, accidently bumping Zavala’s nose with hers. “Ow,” She mutters lamely, all shock and surprise wiped away with the bloom of pain. The Commander’s reaction is a little less subtle, although he can attribute how he froze at their entry to her calling out in pain, and he’s lucky enough to have his back to his Fireteam so they don’t see his surprise.

The Clanswoman speaks first, looking at Zavala with something akin to tenderness in her eyes before she tilts her head to the left and calls over his right shoulder, “Broke up a little tift at the Clan meeting down in the city. Just cleaning up my face before I go back to the Tower.” She dabs at her face once more for emphasis before throwing the flannel into the miniature hamper beside an equally small garbage can.

“Are you alright?” Ikora asks, trying to peek over Zavala. He steps out of the way, turning his body so that Suraya can escape the small space before it really becomes a party. She drifts past him, her fingers brushing the palm of his hand. His palm closes reflexively over them as she does, not to hold her hand but more to add his reply to her gesture.

“I’m fine,” She promises Ikora. “Barely a scratch.”

“Tough as nails,” Cayde says, wrapping an arm around Hawthorne’s shoulders. “That’s our girl.”

She removes Cayde’s hand from her shoulder. “Yeah, no. Anyway, I should go check on Louis.” She turns to Zavala, who’s made his way to the worktable he and his fellow Vanguard will be working at for the remainder of the evening. “Thanks,” She says, motioning indiscriminately to indicate the use of his office as she heads for the door. “For, y'know.”

He chuckles. It’s a warm sound. She smiles. “I believe it is I who should be thanking you. Your counsel is, as always,” He pauses, thinking of what he wants to say. Her fingers wrap around the doorframe that leads into the hall. “Appreciated.”

She beams. “I know.” The edge of haughtiness in her tone is cut with something sweeter. “You’re welcome. We’ll talk soon.”

Ikora’s eyes burn into Zavala’s. He tilts his head to the side in confusion. “What?”

Ikora shakes her head, smirking at him. It’s unsettling.

At the same time, Cayde pipes up. “Okay, who is that, and what’d you do with Poncho?”


End file.
